The 3d Nivose, year IX. (Dec. 21, 1800),
[Under the Republican regime the years were counted from the
proclamation of the Republic, Sept. 22, 1792. The year was divided
into twelve months of thirty days each, re-named from some
peculiarity, as Brumaire (foggy); Nivose (snowy); Thermidor (hot);
Fructidor (fruit), etc.; besides five supplementary days of
festivals, called 'sans-culottides'. The months were divided into
three decades of ten days instead of weeks, the tenth day (decadi)
being in lieu of Sunday. The Republican calendar lasted till Jan 1,
1806, as to the years and months at least, though the Concordat
had restored the weeks and Sabbaths.--TRANS.]
the Opera presented, by order, The Creation of Haydn; and the First
Consul had announced that he would be present, with all his household, at
this magnificent oratorio. He dined on that day with Madame Bonaparte,
her daughter, and Generals Rapp, Lauriston, Lannes, and Berthier. I was
on duty; but as the First Consul was going to the Opera, I knew that I
should not be needed at the chateau, and resolved, for my part, to go to
the Feydeau, occupying the box which Madame Bonaparte allowed us, and
which was situated under hers. After dinner, which the First Consul
bolted with his usual rapidity, he rose from the table, followed by his
officers, with the exception of General Rapp, who remained with Madame
Josephine and Hortense. About seven o'clock the First Consul entered his
carriage with Lannes, Berthier, and Lauriston, to go to the Opera. When
they arrived in the middle of Rue Sainte-Nicaise, the escort who preceded
the carriage found the road obstructed by a cart, which seemed to be
abandoned, and on which a cask was found fastened strongly with ropes.
The chief of the escort had this cart removed to the side of the street;
and the First Consul's coachman, whom this delay had made impatient,
urged on his horses vigorously, and they shot off like lightning.
Scarcely two seconds had passed when the barrel which was on the cart
burst with a frightful explosion. No one of the escort or of the
companions of the First Consul was slain, but several were wounded; and
the loss among the residents in the street and the passers-by near the
horrible machine was much greater. More than twenty of these were
killed, and more than sixty seriously wounded. Trepsat, the architect,
had his thigh broken. The First Consul afterwards decorated him, and
made him the architect of the Invalides, saying that he had long enough
been the most invalid of architects. All the panes of glass at the
Tuileries were broken, and many houses thrown down. All those of the
Rue Sainte-Nicaise, and even some in the adjacent streets, were badly
damaged, some fragments being blown into the house of the Consul
Cambaceres. The glass of the First Consul's carriage was shivered to
fragments. By a fortunate chance, the carriages of the suite, which
should have been immediately behind that of the First Consul, were some
distance in the rear, which happened in this way: Madame Bonaparte, after
dinner, had a shawl brought to wear to the opera; and when it came,
General Rapp jestingly criticised the color, and begged her to choose
another. Madame Bonaparte defended her shawl, and said to the general
that he knew as much about criticising a toilet as she did about
attacking a fort. This friendly banter continued for some moments; and
in the interval, the First Consul, who never waited, set out in advance,
and the miserable assassins and authors of the conspiracy set fire to the
infernal machine. Had the coachman of the First Consul driven less
rapidly, and thereby been two seconds later, it would have been all over
with his master; while, on the other hand, if Madame Bonaparte had
followed her husband promptly, it would have been certain death to her
and all her suite.
It was, in fact, the delay of an instant which saved her life, as well as
that of her daughter, her sister-in-law, Madame Murat, and all who were
to accompany them, since the carriage of these ladies, instead of being
immediately behind that of the First Consul, was just leaving the Place
Carrousel, when the machine exploded. The glass was shivered; and though
Madame Bonaparte received no injury except the terrible fright, Hortense
was slightly wounded in the face by a piece of glass, and Madame Caroline
Murat, who was then far advanced in pregnancy, was so frightened that it
was necessary to carry her back to the Tuileries. This catastrophe had
its influence, even on the health of her child; for I have been told that
Prince Achille Muratz is subject, to this day, to frequent attacks of
epilepsy. As is well known, the First Consul went on to the opera, where
he was received with tumultuous acclamations, the immobility of his
countenance contrasting strongly with the pallor and agitation of Madame
Bonaparte's, who had feared not so much for herself as for him. The
coachman who had driven the First Consul with such good fortune was named
Germain. He had followed him in Egypt, and in a skirmish had killed an
Arab, with his own hand, under the eyes of the general-in-chief, who,
struck with his courage, had cried out, "Diable! that's a brave man, he
is a Caesar." The name had clung to him. It has been said that this
brave man was drunk at the time of this explosion; but this is a mistake,
which his conduct under the circumstances contradicts in the most
positive manner. When the First Consul, after he became Emperor, went
out, incognito, in Paris, it was Caesar who was his escort, without
livery. It is said in the Memorial de Sainte Helene that the Emperor,
in speaking of Caesar, stated that he was in a complete state of
intoxication, and took the noise of the explosion for an artillery
salute, nor did he know until the next day what had taken place. This is
entirely untrue, and the Emperor was incorrectly informed in regard to
his coachman. Caesar drove the First Consul very rapidly because he had
been ordered to do so, and because he considered his honor interested in
not allowing the obstacle which the infernal machine placed in his way
before the explosion to delay him. The evening of the event I saw
Caesar, who was perfectly sober, and he himself related to me part of the
details that I have just given. A few days after, four or five hundred
hackney-coachmen clubbed together to honor him, and gave him a
magnificent dinner at twenty-four francs per head.
While the infernal plot was being executed, and costing the lies of many
innocent citizens, without attaining the object the assassins proposed,
I was, as I have said, at the Theatre Feydeau, where I had prepared
myself to enjoy at my leisure an entire evening of freedom, amid the
pleasures of the stage, for which I had all my life a great liking.
Scarcely had I seated myself comfortably, however, when the box-keeper
entered in the greatest excitement, crying out, "Monsieur Constant, it is
said that they have just blown up the First Consul; there has been a
terrible explosion, and it is asserted that he is dead." These terrible
words were like a thunderbolt-to me. Not knowing what I did, I plunged
down-stairs, and, forgetting my hat, ran like mad to the chateau. While
crossing Rue Vivienne and the Palais Royal, I saw no extraordinary
disturbance; but in Rue Sainte Honore there was a very great tumult, and
I saw, borne away on litters, many dead and wounded, who had been at
first carried into the neighboring houses of Rue Sainte Nicaise. Many
groups had formed, and with one voice all were cursing the still unknown
authors of this dastardly attempt. Some accused the Jacobins of this,
because three months before they had placed the poniard in the hands of
Cerrachi, of Arena, and of Topino Lebrun; whilst others, less numerous
perhaps, thought the aristocrats, the Royalists, could alone be guilty of
this atrocity. I could give no time to these various accusations, except
as I was detained in forcing my way through an immense and closely packed
crowd, and as rapidly as possible went on, and in two seconds was at the
Carrousel. I threw myself against the wicket, but the two sentinels
instantly crossed bayonets before my breast. It was useless to cry out
that I was valet de chambre of the First Consul; for my bare head, my
wild manner, the disorder, both of my dress and ideas, appeared to them
suspicious, and they refused energetically and very obstinately to allow
me to enter. I then begged them to send for the gatekeeper of the
chateau; and as soon as he came, I was admitted, or rather rushed into
the chateau, where I learned what had just happened. A short time after
the First Consul arrived, and was immediately surrounded by his officers,
and by all his household, every one present being in the greatest state
of anxiety. When the First Consul alighted from his carriage he appeared
calm and smiling; he even wore an air of gayety. On entering the
vestibule he said to his officers, rubbing his hands, "Well, sirs, we
made a fine escape!" They shuddered with indignation and anger. He then
entered the grand saloon on the ground floor, where a large number of
counselors of state and-dignitaries had already assembled; but hardly had
they begun to express their congratulations, when he interrupted them,
and in so vehement a manner that he was heard outside the saloon. We
were told that after this council he had a lively altercation with
Fouche, Minister of Police, whom he reproached with his ignorance of
this plot, openly accusing the Jacobins of being the authors.
That evening, on retiring, the First Consul asked me laughingly if I was
afraid. "More than you were, my general," I replied; and I related to
him how I had heard the fatal news at the Feydeau, and had run without my
hat to the very wicket of the Carrousel, where the sentinels tried to
prevent my entering. He was amused at the oaths and abusive epithets
with which they had accompanied their defense of the gate, and at last
said to me, "After all, my dear Constant, you should not be angry with
them; they were only obeying orders. They are brave men, on whom I can
rely." The truth is, the Consular Guard was at this period no less
devoted than it has been since as the Imperial Guard. At the first rumor
of the great risk which the First Consul had run, all the soldiers of
that faithful band had gathered spontaneously in the court of the
Tuileries.
After this melancholy catastrophe, which carried distress into all
France, and mourning into so many families, the entire police were
actively engaged in searching for the authors of the plot. The dwelling
of the First Consul was first put under surveillance, and we were
incessantly watched by spies, without suspecting it. All our walks, all
our visits, all our goings and comings, were known; and attention was
especially directed to our friends, and even our liaisons. But such was
the devotion of each and all to the person of the First Consul, such was
the affection that he so well knew how to inspire in those around him,
that not one of the persons attached to his service was for an instant
suspected of having a hand in this infamous attempt. Neither at this
time, nor in any other affair of this kind, were the members of his
household ever compromised; and never was the name of the lowest of his
servants ever found mixed up in criminal plots against a life so valued
and so glorious.
The minister of police suspected the Royalists of this attempt; but the
First Consul attributed it to the Jacobins, because they were already
guilty, he said, of crimes as odious. One hundred and thirty of the most
noted men of this party were transported on pure suspicion, and without
any form of trial. It is now known that the discovery, trial, and
execution of Saint Regent and Carbon, the true criminals, proved that the
conjectures of the minister were more correct than those of the chief of
state.
The 4th Nivose, at noon, the First Consul held a grand review in the
Place Carrousel, where an innumerable crowd of citizens were collected to
behold, and also to testify their affection for his person, and their
indignation against the enemies who dared attack him only by
assassination. Hardly had he turned his horse towards the first line of
grenadiers of the Consular Guard, when their innumerable acclamations
rose on all sides. He rode along the ranks, at a walk, very slowly,
showing his appreciation, and replying by a few simple and affectionate
words to this effusion of popular joy; and cries of "Vive Bonaparte!
Vive the First Consul!" did not cease till after he had re-entered his
apartments.
The conspirators who obstinately persisted, with so much animosity, in
attacking the life of the First Consul, could not have chosen a period in
which circumstances would have been more adverse to their plans than in
1800 and 1801, for then the Consul was beloved not only for his military
deeds, but still more for the hope of peace that he gave to France, which
hope was soon realized. As soon as the first rumor spread abroad that
peace had been concluded with Austria, the greater part of the
inhabitants of Paris gathered under the windows of the Pavilion of Flora.
Blessings and cries of gratitude and joy were heard on all sides; then
musicians assembled to give a serenade to the chief of state, and
proceeded to form themselves into orchestras; and there was dancing the
whole night through. I have never seen a sight more striking or more
joyous than the bird's-eye view of this improvised jubilee.
When in the month of October, the, peace of Amiens having been concluded
with England, France found herself delivered from all the wars that she
had maintained through so many years, and at the cost of so many
sacrifices, it would be impossible to form an idea of the joy which burst
forth on all sides. The decrees which ordered either the disarmament of
vessels of war, or the placing of the forts on a peace footing, were
welcomed as pledges of happiness and security. The day of the reception
of Lord Cornwallis, Ambassador of England, the First Consul ordered that
the greatest magnificence should be displayed. "It is necessary," he had
said the evening before, "to show these proud Britons that we are not
reduced to beggary." The fact is, the English, before setting foot on
the French continent, had expected to find only ruins, penury, and
misery. The whole of France had been described to them as being in the
most distressing condition, and they thought themselves on the point of
landing in a barbarous country. Their surprise was great when they saw
how many evils the First Consul had already repaired in so short a time,
and all the improvements that he still intended to carry out; and they
spread through their own country the report of what they themselves
called the prodigies of the First Consul, by which thousands of their
compatriots were influenced to come and judge with their own eyes. At
the moment that Lord Cornwallis entered the great hall of the Ambassadors
with his suite, the eyes of all the English must have been dazzled by the
sight of the First Consul, surrounded by his two colleagues, with all the
diplomatic corps, and with an already brilliant military court.
In the midst of all these rich uniforms, his was remarkable for its
simplicity; but the diamond called the Regent, which had been put in pawn
under the Directory, and redeemed a few days since by the First Consul,
sparkled on the hilt of his sword.